


Disillusionment

by dirtbagtrashcat



Series: Awakenings [2]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: (Yeah it definitely does), But does it count if Akira has chemistry with EVERYONE???, Denial, It sucks to have a crush on the most popular guy in Tokyo, It's Ann's job to bring him up to speed, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Obliviousness, Pining, Repression, Running, Ryuji and Akira have chemistry, Ryuji is a big dummy, running from your feelings, sorry I suck at titles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:40:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23582497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirtbagtrashcat/pseuds/dirtbagtrashcat
Summary: Ryuji goes to the diner with Ann and learns some unwelcome truths about Akira.----“Poor Haru,” Ann says sympathetically, twirling one long pigtail around her fingers. “Joker’s got no mercy, huh?”“Huh?” Ryuji echoes back at her, scratching the back of his neck with one hand. Morgana’s healing magic fixed the worst of his injuries, but he’d swear that cat makes a point of leaving Ryuji’s wounds just slightly unfinished. It always leaves him intolerably itchy. “What, did he do something to her?”“Oh my god,” Ann sighs, exasperated to the point of exhaustion.“What?” he demands. “Are they in a fight or something?”Ann gives him a pitying look.“Aw, Ryuji,” she tells him affectionately, reaching across the table to ruffle his hair with one hand. “Do you work hard to be so oblivious, or does it come naturally?”
Relationships: Kurusu Akira/Sakamoto Ryuji, Persona 5 Protagonist/Sakamoto Ryuji
Series: Awakenings [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1697557
Comments: 18
Kudos: 225





	Disillusionment

Akira has a way of dragging the truth out of him, and Ryuji’s not sure he likes it. 

Who is he kidding? Of course he freakin _likes_ it. When he’s with Akira, he feels… fizzy, like his whole chest is full of champagne and the bubbles are tap-tap-tapping against his sternum. He feels bright and sharp and a little high, like his heart is pumping pure unfiltered adrenaline through his veins. He feels _free_. And for some unfathomable reason that’s never been quite clear to Ryuji, he can’t stop telling the truth about it. 

“When I’m with you, I feel… free,” he told Akira just last night, wearing a grin bright enough to fuel a 40-watt lightbulb. Akira didn’t seem to know what to do with that. 

“What do you mean by that?” he’d asked, like any sane person would in response to such unhinged, unabashed honesty. Ryuji just shrugged.

“I don’t how how else to say it,” he told him. “I just feel free.” 

How else were you supposed to think of it, when every moment of closeness with someone makes you feel like you could bench press an eighteen-wheeler? When every smirk and snort and quirk of his lips makes you want to flex through your shirt and do _backflips_ for him, just to see it again? 

It's natural, to a degree. When Akira moved to town, he turned up the saturation on Ryuji’s whole _world_ \-- or maybe it was more like he tore down Ryuji’s life and replaced it with a better one, all bright colors and action sequences. He replaced Ryuji with a better one, too. Maybe Ryuji had always been Skull, deep down, but if he hadn’t met Akira, he might never have found out. 

Those first few months were the best of his life. They tore Kamoshida’s life apart, just like Kamoshida had done to Shiho and Mishima and the track team and so many other sweet bright kids who deserved better. They rose up like a couple of god-damned avenging angels, and they did it in _style_ , with spiked bats and shotguns and _superpowers_ for fuck’s sake. And through it all, Ryuji was right at Akira’s side, back to back, feeling the warmth of him radiate clear through his suit and into Ryuji’s soul. It felt _good_. 

When the team starts to grow, Ryuji doesn’t resent it. He doesn’t resent that Akira has to say no to him, sometimes, because he already has plans that day. Akira is _Akira_ , after all. If he wasn’t taking Makoto to the arcade or going shopping with Futaba, he’d be helping his ex-Yakuza buddy become a better father, or going fishing with their freaking homeroom teacher. But Ryuji and Akira still have something special, probably. Or -- definitely. They’re best friends. The _dream_ team. No one knows Akira like he does. At least, that’s what he assumes.

Until he makes the mistake of talking to Ann about it. 

The two have made a little tradition of refueling at the diner on Central after hitting Mementos. (The first few times they went, Ryuji asked Akira to join them, but Morgana insisted that their leader needed his beauty sleep. Ryuji would never understand why Akira was so determined to obey Morgana’s orders. There was probably something to it, though. Akira always seemed to know what his friends needed most, when they needed it most. Maybe what Morgana needed most was any semblance of control.)

Still, he doesn’t mind keeping the tradition between him and Ann. She’s fun, and she's hot, and he doesn’t hate the envious looks he gets from the guys who spot them together. Plus, when she lays off of messing with him for ten friggin seconds, she’s actually pretty nice. 

“Poor Haru,” Ann says sympathetically after putting in today’s order. She twirls one long pigtail around her fingers and shoots Ryuji a wry glance. “Joker’s got no mercy, huh?” 

“Huh?” Ryuji echoes back at her, scratching the back of his neck with one hand. Morgana’s healing magic fixed the worst of his injuries, but he’d swear that cat makes a point of leaving Ryuji’s wounds just _slightly_ unfinished. It always leaves him intolerably itchy. “What, did he do something to her?” 

“Oh my _god_ ,” Ann sighs, exasperated to the point of exhaustion.

“What?” he demands. “Are they in a fight or something?”

Ann gives him a pitying look. 

“Aw, Ryuji,” she tells him affectionately, reaching across the table to ruffle his hair with one hand. “Do you work hard to be so oblivious, or does it come naturally?”

“Will you just tell me what you’re talking about!!” 

Ann snickers, but relents.

“Joker’s a ladykiller,” she explains gently, like you’d say to a child; and then ruins the affect by adding “you big dumb ape. He’s a serial heartbreaker.” 

Ryuji chokes on his drink.

“They’re _dating_?” he asks hoarsely, once he’s figured out which pipes are for drinking and which are for breathing. “Since _when?_ ”

“Not _dating_ , stupid,” she sighs impatiently. “He’s just cast his usual spell; and it’s hit her weakness, like it always does. Haru’s been following him around like a little puppy dog all week.”

The diner’s walls close in. Ryuji’s not sure why its usually-warm amber lighting suddenly looks so dishwater grey. Maybe there’s an issue in the wiring. 

“Do you,” he attempts, before his will flags.

“What?” Ann asks irritably. “Do I what?” 

In a tone more even leaden than before: “Do you think they’ll, like. Date?” 

“Oh my _god_ , Ryuji!” Ann shouts, standing up in her seat to shove him hard in the chest. “Have you always been this _dumb_? You’re like, impossible to talk to!” 

“Uhh.” Ryuji’s not sure how he’s managed to so thoroughly lose control of this conversation. After a moment, he tries again. “...Because it’s obvious that they _will_ , or that they won’t?”

“Because they _won’t_! This happens _every time,_ you big oaf. Someone new joins the team who’s not used to Joker’s whole… you know,” she says knowingly, and then throws on her sunglasses to give him a remarkable impression of Akira’s trademark smirk. 

“Wow,” Ryuji says wonderingly, in spite of his sudden fit of claustrophobia. “You’re really serious about this acting thing, huh?”

“I do not fuck around,” she confirms, deadpan. Then her tone grows serious. “But you _do_ know, Ryuji. Joker's _thing_. That thing where, like… Akira asks you a question and he _really listens_ when you answer, and suddenly it’s like your stupid little problems are the most important thing in the world; and everything else falls away, like you’re the only two people in the whole world, and for one heady afternoon you’re sure that no one’s ever had chemistry like this, that you’ve got this star-crossed connection and against all odds you found each other, and now you’ve just got to hold on and never let go, and… Oh my _god_ , Ryuji, why are you looking at me like I’m speaking French? This is Joker 101!”

Ryuji can’t deny that he’s staring. Everything Ann is saying is everything he’s felt, deep in his heart, but never dared to voice. It’s exactly what he means when he tells Joker that being with him makes him feel _free_. And now Ann is telling him that _everyone_ feels that way? Is this some kind of joke?

“ _Everyone_ feels like that?” he asks hoarsely, and then watches miserably as Ann’s impatience melts away to be replaced by the worst thing imaginable: pity.

“Aw, Ryuji,” she says again, only this time she sounds like she really means it. “I’m so sorry, I thought you knew. But, I mean… yeah. Everyone feels that way.” 

“Right,” he says numbly, from a million miles away. 

Ann shoots him another worried look before pressing on. 

“I mean, I saw her after school today,” she says conspiratorially, “before the team met up, I mean, and I think she’s doing something to her hair. It looks amazing, obviously, but it’s soooo obvious that she’s doing it for him, cause...” 

Ann is still talking, but Ryuji’s not listening. He can’t stop thinking about how stupid he’s been, to believe that maybe he and Akira had something special. Of _course_ everyone feels that way about Akira. They can all see him, can’t they? 

He knows that Ann is saying something, maybe even something he’s expected to respond to, but he can’t seem to get his brain to fix on her words. 

“I forgot,” he cuts in abruptly, when he can’t bear it any longer. His voice is too loud in the small space. He’d tried to wait for a lull in Ann’s story, but from the startled look on her face, it’s obvious he timed it wrong. “I have, uh -- I told my mom I’d be home for dinner.” 

Ann’s forehead furrows. 

“Ryuji, it’s _ten at night_ \--”

“Then I’m late!” he shouts back, definitely not hysterically. “I’ll -- I mean, she’ll be -- I’ll see you at school, Ann.” 

He tears out in a full sprint, leaving Ann with the check, which he’ll definitely get an earful about tomorrow. But what was he supposed to do? The diner is usually quiet. Tonight, though, it was -- too loud, too small, too dingy, like an ugly little cave carved into an ugly little mountain. He couldn’t even _breathe_ in there. He needs air, and he needs it _now_.

Ryuji’s doesn’t slow down when he gets outside. He’s not wearing running shoes, but the thought of slowing to a walk feels unbearable. There’s something cold inside his chest -- a hollow kind of suction, like the vacuum of space, so strong and so dark that if he stops running for a second he fears he’ll fall into it, and just fold inward and inward till all that’s left of him is a little mote of dust. 

His bad leg throbs and he welcomes it, drinks down the hurt like the bitter swill it is: a punishment for his idiocy, for his naïveté. Of _course_ he was never special to Akira. Ryuji’s not even special to _Ryuji_. 

It doesn’t really matter, he thinks miserably. He doesn’t need to be special. It’s enough for him, just to-- _No_. He thrusts those thoughts away.

If he runs hard enough, maybe the heavy thud of his hummingbird heart will be loud enough to drown out the way Ann looked at him, with pity in her eyes. If he pumps his legs fast enough, maybe that uneasy clicking in his bad knee -- that horrible tension in his patella -- will eclipse the pathetic keening of his traitorous heart. If he runs far enough, maybe his aching, straining muscles will finally sear away the last of his worthless, pointless hope.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry for hurting our boy!! I love Ryuji and I promise that everything will work out fine for him, I just have a sadistic soft spot for this kind of horrible self-flagellate-y pining. 
> 
> If you liked this, please let me know cuz I am super new to writing fanfic and I still feel fairly silly about like, spewing words into the void! Constructive criticism also welcome as long as you're not a dick about it.
> 
> (Also please tell me if I'm doing this wrong, I don't totally get the distinction of like, adding chapters vs adding a new post to a series? Shrug forever I guess it's pretty low stakes)
> 
> -the trashcat


End file.
